


Head of the Student Council

by BBASLML



Series: Studying in the House of Lamentation [11]
Category: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst and Porn, Cunnilingus, Demon Sex, Demon/Human Relationships, F/M, Gentle Sex, M/M, Mating Bites, Multi, Multiple Orgasms, Orgasm, Penis In Vagina Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Polyamory, Porn, Porn with Feelings, Rough Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Sex, Shameless Smut, Smut, Trauma, Triggers, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-25
Updated: 2020-08-29
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:15:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26103280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BBASLML/pseuds/BBASLML
Summary: You find Diavolo in the Student Council Chamber. Just as things are getting spicy, he notices a new bite scar on your skin. You finally get to find out why the brothers keep biting you ... and why Diavolo has not. Rough emotional sex follows, but Diavolo has a habit of forgetting his own strength.
Relationships: Barbatos & Main Character (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Barbatos (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!) & Reader, Barbatos (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)/Reader, Barbatos/Diavolo (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Barbatos/Diavolo/Lucifer/Main Character (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Barbatos/Main Character (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Barbatos/Main Character/Diavolo (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Beelzebub (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!) & Reader, Diavolo (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!) & Reader, Diavolo (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)/Reader, Diavolo/Main Character (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)
Series: Studying in the House of Lamentation [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1727695
Comments: 149
Kudos: 490





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Originally, this was meant to be a lighter, smut-focused chapter, but the plot bunnies are doing their thing and it's going to be a bit more angsty than intended. 
> 
> First chapter is Diavolo/MC, with a hint of Beelzebub/MC at the start. Second chapter will include Barbatos/MC.

You're relieved when the lunch bell sounds, dismissing you from your Politics of Heaven and Hell (Intermediate) class. You stretch out your arms. The professor—a stumpy demon with yellow eyes and small, dull horns—surprised you all with a pop quiz, and your hand has been cramping for the past half hour as you frantically scribble away. You turn in your papers with a sheepish grin, hoping the lack of studying over the last few weeks hasn't set you back too far. Living in the House of Lamentation is proving to be a constant distraction, with one misadventure after another and more sexcapades than you bargained for.

Following the impromptu sleepover with Leviathan, you managed to get a night to yourself, in your own bed, despite both Mammon's and Asmodeus's efforts to infiltrate your room. Lucifer was the one to insist they give you a break: "If my love wishes to have a moment of peace and quiet, I will not have the two of you lurking by her door. Leave her to her studies and her rest, or so help me, _I will string you both up from the ceiling in the underground tomb_."

The only disturbance you had that evening was Beelzebub making sure you didn't miss out on dinner. He even managed to bring a plate to your room without eating it on the way over, for which you were grateful. If Beel refraining from eating food so that he can bring it to you isn't love, you're not sure what is. Safe to say, when you invited him into your room while you took a study break, he had you for dessert. The sensation of his long and powerful tongue sliding into your heat, and pressing over your clit, until you couldn't take anymore, had you tingling for hours afterwards.

To your surprise, he didn’t want anything in return, except to just sit with you until you finished your dinner.

“You looked stressed, so I just wanted to help you relax,” he smiled, kissing your thighs.

Your dinner was cold by the time you got to it, but it was well worth it. Okay, perhaps you didn’t have the night _all_ to yourself, but Beelzebub was all give and no take. You felt pampered and at ease with him. You didn't get a whole lot of studying done, but you did have a nice long bath when Beel left after dinner, and plenty of time to decompress.

_Mammon and Asmodeus wouldn’t have taken the hint if Lucifer hadn’t been so insistent with them. I should really thank him for helping me get that time to myself_ , you think as you move through the RAD hallways. Politics of Heaven and Hell is one of the few classes that you don't share with any of the brothers, and Solomon, Simeon and Luke are all in the advanced class. That left you to walk yourself to and from the seminar. You decide to make a detour past the student council chamber. _If Lucifer is there, maybe he'll let me treat him to lunch_.

The giant doors that lead into the student council chamber are heavy and cold under your touch. You give them a tentative push, and to your surprise, they swing open to permit you to the room. Stepping in, you feel as awestruck by the cavernous room as the day you arrived in the Devildom. You're greeted by high ceilings and golden eyes.

"What brings you here, my love?" Diavolo's voice booms.

He stands from his seat behind the high table with a grin, and makes his way towards you, beaming. Your heart stutters at the sight of his bright eyes and that dazzling smile. But then he catches himself, pausing mid-stride to clear his throat and recompose.

"Apologise, I forget myself."

With a wave of his hand, the door you just walked through swings shut and you hear the distinctive sound of a lock clicking into place. The noise makes you jump some, but a cheerful sound from Diavolo sets you at ease. He opens his arms wide, beckoning you to him, and with a shy smile you meet his embrace. Your feet leave the floor as he lifts you in his arms, squeezing your frame against his broad, muscular chest.

"So ... I guess I live here now?" you tease when he doesn't set you down.

His laughter shakes against your body before he lets your feet meet the floor again. "Apologies, my love. I am happy to see you."

"It's been a while since we saw each other with any semblance of privacy, huh?" you smile as he takes both of your hands in his own.

"It has, it's been far too long. Have you been well?" He doesn't release your hands.

"Yes, my love." The endearment tastes sweet against your tongue. "I do miss you and Barbatos though."

"We will need to think of more excuses for you to join us at the castle. Lucifer, too."

"Speaking of," you say, remembering your purpose. "I was actually looking for him."

Diavolo shakes his head. "You're about ten minutes too late, he was just here but he's gone to take care of some other business. He should be back later this afternoon though. We've got quite a bit of paperwork to get through and he knows I'll make little progress on it without him." He gives you a devious grin. "Perhaps you could keep me company until he returns?"

You feel your face flush at the suggestion. The implication is heavy in his voice and you note the way his eyes travel up and down the front of your RAD uniform. You find yourself returning that heated look, imagining how easy it would be to peel away his red jacket and everything beneath it on your way to his skin—that warm caramel skin that you crave to press yourself against. A shiver of excitement runs through you.

"I guess I could stick around," you agree, stepping close so that your chest bumps against his.

He makes a pleased humming sound when you drape your arms over his shoulders, rubbing your fingertips against his nape. You can feel the tension that's built there as you work the muscles.

"So _tight_ ," you comment.

He smirks at you, raises a playful eyebrow. "I'm sure you are, too."

_Damn, this demon is on the ball_.

"Would you like to check?" you purr, bringing your lips close to his.

Prince Diavolo's eyes burn molten gold for a moment before he catches your mouth. His tongue doesn't hesitate to slide against yours as he tilts your head back, hands moving to your hips to drag you against his torso. You press your fingertips firmer to the muscles at the back of his neck, swallowing the soft sigh that escapes him as he deepens the kiss.

The next thing you know, he's scooped you up bridal style. Diavolo steps back towards his seat at the student council table, and eases back into the chair, gathering your body in his lap. One of his hands moves to the back of your head while his other hand travels down along your thigh. Your backside wiggles against his crotch, where you can feel the growing hardness of his cock through his uniform. His mouth departs from yours and finds the flesh of your neck, just under your jaw. His tongue flicker against your pulse point and joined by the vibrations of another hum.

"Are you really going to fuck me in the student council chamber of your academy?" you tease, dragging your fingers through his auburn hair.

He nips the skin of your neck, making you gasp, before he pulls his head back and fixes you with a level gaze and a winning smile.

"Absolutely," he grins. "I've locked the door, so no one can interrupt us. Except, of course, Lucifer, or Barbatos, but I don't think they'll be around. Besides—" He tilts his head to one side. "—I haven't had you all to myself before, my love."

You suddenly feel far too warm in your RAD uniform, and you doubt that's going to change with the way the prince's hands traverse your body. His mouth is sweet against yours, and you taste him greedily. His right hand comes to cup your breast over your uniform, and he massages it under his palm. You sigh into his mouth, flicking your tongue against his as he adjusts you in his lap. His hand is hot through the material. You circle your hips over his crotch. The way his dick throbs beneath you makes you hungry for more.

As if he can read your mind, Diavolo stands up, lifting you from his lap as he goes. You brace yourself against the high table before you as his lips move from your mouth down to the side of your neck. He makes short work of the top half of your RAD uniform, loosening his own tie and shrugging out of his blazer in the process. His clothed cock rubs against your soaked panties as he bunches your skirt around your hips. He has half unbuttoned his shirt when he pulls your hair over one shoulder to kiss the back of your neck. But when his lips meet your skin, he suddenly recoils.

"Dia? I-is everything alright?" you ask, peering back at him.

From over your shoulder, you can see a certain sadness in his liquid amber eyes. It softens at your question and he meets your gaze.

"Ah, it's nothing, my love. I was just taken by surprise," he says, voice quieter than you're accustomed to.

He’s trying to force his usual cheerful tone. You turn your head a little further, unconvinced by his words. Your dubious expression makes him smile gently.

"This wasn't here the last time I saw you," he comments, pressing his finger over the back of your neck.

It takes you a moment to realise what he's referring to, then your eyes widen. "Ooh, the scar?"

He chuckles. "Mammon's bite, correct?"

At his words, you turn to face him completely, taking in his slightly crestfallen expression.

"How could you tell?"

Diavolo meets your gaze with mild shock.

"Of course, I— Wait ... you don't know, do you?"

His face softens again, rose tinting his cheeks and a sparkle of amusement in his eyes. 

Your brow furrows. "Know what?"

Diavolo sighs and takes his seat again, pulling you into his lap once more. Your skirt remains bunched around your hips. His fingers trace over the scar at the crook of your neck, where Satan has bitten you twice now, and the scar on your chest where Lucifer left a mark the first night you spent with him. Diavolo meets your eyes with a tired expression as his fingers make their way around the edge of your lacey bra.

"Have none of them told you what these are?"

He presses a digit against the scar from Lucifer's bite. You shake your head. He looks amused. There’s a flash of a wicked smile.

"Admittedly, I was a little mad at Lucifer when I found out he'd marked you like this."

"How can you tell who did it?" you ask again, bemused. 

Diavolo beams at you, but there is an underlying sorrow, just barely detectable behind his mask of bravado.

"These are no ordinary bite marks, my love. These bites have been imbued with Infernal magic. They're what we demons call a lover's mark," he explains. "When a demon feels a strong emotional connection with a lover, we mark them as our mate. Demons can take many mates, but not all mates receive a lover's mark, my love."

Your hands go absently to the scars against your flesh. "Wh-what do they mean?"

"It's ... I don't want to say a _claim_ ... More like a pledge. It's a sign that they've given their heart to you, and they want to belong to you, and for you to belong to them. It's our way of saying, 'I love you more than I love myself'. It's also a signal to other demons—a warning, if you will—that if they bring harm upon you, your lover will hunt them down and destroy them. Because you matter to them. Because they truly love you and don’t wish to be without you."

You feel your cheeks darken, though you're unsure if it's because of the newfound implication behind the bites, or because of the longing, almost vulnerable tone in Diavolo's voice that makes your heart thud against your ribs. His eyes shift away from yours, landing somewhere on the floor.

"Each demon's lover's mark is distinctive and imbued with a little bit of their power. Enough that other demons can identify who adores you so, if they see the mark, or if they touch it. That's what caught me off-guard just now. I wasn't expecting that little shock of Mammon's power when I kissed the back of your neck." He gives a hearty laugh, as if Mammon had played a hilarious prank on him. 

To say that you're shocked by this information is an understatement. Your mind is reeling.

"I thought they'd just bitten me by accident in the throes of passion," you admit.

He chuckles again, eyes returning to your face. One of his hands caresses your thigh and pauses at your hip.

"Yes, I imagine that's what it must have seemed like if no one explained it to you. Though admittedly, it often happens involuntarily. It takes a great deal of self-control for a demon not to mark a lover they feel such a strong connection with. It is the greatest sign of love a demon can give."

Your chest puffs out a little as you turn this knowledge over in your mind. There is a deep comfort in the realisation that anyone's love for you is so strong that their nature demands them to display it. A warmth grows in your belly as you caress the three marks Diavolo touched moments earlier.

_Did they tingle under my fingers like that before? Or am I imagining that sensation beneath my digits as I trace the scars?_

You drop a hand absently to your lap, pressing over the front of your underwear. Diavolo watches your hand and raises an eyebrow. You blush under his curious eyes.

"A-Asmodeus, too. He's marked me as well," you manage.

Diavolo's eyes go wider. He actually looks shocked. Then his mouth breaks into a toothy grin and he laughs so hard that you nearly fall from his lap.

"Of course, the Avatar of Lust _would_ leave his mark down there, wouldn't he?" He wipes a tear from under his eye. "Though I never would have anticipated that Asmodeus would mark you—or anyone, for that matter. You realise what that means, don't you?" Diavolo pauses for dramatic effect, but not long enough for you to respond before he continues. "He loves you more than he loves himself. Now _that's_ an achievement!"

Your heart swells at the thought. But before the joy can consume you, you notice the crease between Diavolo's brows and that small note of sadness in his eyes as he looks away. You quell your smile and cup his face, surprising him with a serious expression.

"Why were you mad at Lucifer for marking me?" you ask. "Why is it that you seem sad that other demons have marked me? You make it sound like a good thing."

You can see in his eyes that he's considering brushing the question off. But you hold his gaze, with his face in your hands, until his resolve to keep up the mask crumbles. Diavolo's shoulders slump some and his grin shrinks out of existence before he drops his eyes from your face again.

"I'm sorry, my love. I _am_ happy that you are so well loved. I just wish I could leave my mark on your skin too."

You give him a puzzled look. "Why can't you?"

His gaze focuses on the scar on your breast in the shape of Lucifer's mouth. He traces it with the pad of his thumb again.

"If I were to mark you ... or Lucifer, or Barbatos ... as my most innate demonic instincts urge me to each time I lay eyes on any of you, it would become very difficult to keep our relationship a secret." His tone is solemn, and you feel an ache throb in your chest. "Likewise, I cannot allow my lovers to mark me. If any of us were to leave a lover's mark on each other, anyone who sees those marks would know exactly who bestowed them."

You stare at his anguished face, feeling a small part of your heart die at the sight of his sorrow.

"But you've been with Lucifer and Barbatos for so long. Have you had to fight that urge this whole time?"

He gives you a small, pained smile. "We all have, my love." He places a hand over yours and drags your palm to his mouth, puckering his lips against your skin. "But it matters little. I have you, and I have them, regardless of the lack of marks we can place on each other's bodies. Admittedly, I am jealous of Lucifer. He has nothing to fear by marking you as his lover. And I am envious of you for having received his lover's mark ... something I have desired for millennia."

You watch his teeth graze the skin at your wrist before he presses another kiss there. Your hand glides back along his cheek again for your fingers to tangle in his auburn hair.

_It must be so painful,_ you think. _For each of them._

The corners of his mouth crease upwards and he draws your body closer to his again.

"I cannot mark my lovers, but I like to think that I make up for this limitation in _other_ ways." He gives you a pointed look, and those liquid honey eyes bloom with lust again.

You lean into his kiss, hot against your mouth. His large hand slides beneath the underwire of your bra and he cups your breast against his palm. A quiet, guttural growl escapes his lips at the sensation of your erect nipple against his skin. His other hand delves into your underwear, brushing along Asmodeus's marking. He teases your clit with fervour, then slides his fingers further back, parting your slick folds as he finds his way into you. You groan at the intrusion of his fingers as he buries himself knuckles deep, pumping at your sex with a steady determination. Each thrust jolts your body, and you feel the tingle of friction from his palm against your clit with each motion.

You forget to breathe. His kiss is quickly becoming wild and erratic. He pinches your nipple harshly, beneath the lace of your bra, and you moan against his mouth. Hips grinding, you can feel the heavy bulge of his cock beneath you, rubbing against your arse. Your core aches for more of him. This new dimension of his secret love, especially with those he's been with for so very long, urges you to surrender everything to him, to be his for these moments, to share in his pain.

You bring your hands down the front of his chest, relishing the solid mass of each muscle. Your fingers skim past the curling lines of his tattoos. His abdomen ripples at your touch before you shift in his lap to free his cock from its confines. Hard and heavy, his dick throbs against your palm as you wrap your fingers around him. Despite having fucked the demon prince before, you still marvel at the sheer size of him. Paired with his broad and solid build, he could have been a god. He tilts your head back, teeth grazing over your throat on his way down to your collarbone. You treat his shaft to slow, deliberate strokes as he pulls the lace of your bra down to reveal the harden nipple he's been teasing. A flicker of his tongue leaves you shivering. He takes the bud into his mouth. You moan his name as the tension between your legs intensifies.

You're painfully close to orgasm when he removes his fingers from your pussy, only to tear your underwear to shreds as he stands again. You resume your position braced against the high table, rolling your hips back with your thighs parted. He takes it one step further, hooking a hand behind one knee to bring your leg up. His cock sinks into you a moment later. Diavolo embeds himself all the way into you. You buckle forward, gripping the surface of the table as your cunt stretches over his thick shaft. He doesn't give you any time to adjust before he starts fucking into you, jolting your body with every push of his hips.

"Nngah, Diavolo—"

He pushes your shoulders down against the table, adjusting his grip on your thigh as he keeps your leg lifted. Lewd, wet noises accompany each thrust of his hips, which you penetrate with throaty groans. Despite his size, his cock moves through you like silk, aided by your soaking heat. The sensation as he slides between your folds is a painful bliss.

"You are ... so tight ... aah ..." he groans, digging his black fingernails into the skin of your thigh and the back of your shoulders.

If it weren't for the table beneath your torso, you would have collapsed to the floor. Your knees feel weak as he fucks you into oblivion. With each thrust, you feel your walls distending as he makes you take him deeper. You feel dizzy from the sensations

"S-so deep ..." you manage.

You try to glance back at him over your shoulder when he rasps in approval of your words. His head is bowed, auburn hair obscuring his eyes. A shudder courses through your body, and you whimper on the brink of release as he drags your hips back against his. You rake the surface of the table with your fingernails as it breaks over you, the sheen of sweat on your forehead sticky against the smooth wood. Your cunt goes tighter around him, and the echo of your cry ricochets around the cavernous room.

A sinister growl erupts from Diavolo's throat as you cum around his cock. He shifts into his demon form, claws digging into your skin as he holds you down. The table creaks beneath you, scraping forward along the floor as Diavolo fucks you harder still. The bead of fear in your chest excites you. As the peak of your orgasm subsides, the wet sounds that accompany his violent movements become more prominent. The heat of his skin where it meets yours is searing. You can't regain your footing, but there's no need to; he isn't about to let you move. More garbled noises escape you as the essence of your arousal trickles down your leg in thick rivulets.

" _Mine_ ," he growls.

The word sends a shiver through you. The bead of fear grows as his grip on your body tightens. You gasp out, this time more pain then pleasure, eyes wide. You know that he's chasing his own release now, having forgotten his strength in the haze of his lust.

"D-Dia—" you whimper.

The hand on your shoulder moves to the back of your head and he fists at your hair. With a yelp, you're pulled upright, back arching as he brings you against his chest. You reach back, grabbing at the base of his large, curving horns. Under your fingers, they almost burn, feverish as his skin. The hand he used to pull you upright snakes around your waist, securing you against him. Through the pain of his unbridled strength, you feel the build-up of another orgasm as his mouth caresses the side of your neck.

Tongue flickering against the shell of your ear, he grunts out something in Infernal. You can't understand it, but you try to _feel_ it through the haze of your pained bliss. He makes the sound again, and it vibrates in your bones. It renews a fire inside you; a need to claim and be claimed. It feels like _your heart and mine beat as one_ , and it makes your chest ache. There are tears in your eyes, a bittersweet sob on your lips as you rut back against him.

You feel the graze of his teeth against your shoulder as he slams harshly into you a few more times. A feral snarl leaves him. With a harsh scrape of his fangs against your skin, he turns his face away from your flesh. His claws dig deeper into your thigh. You can feel the fury of his demonic instincts as he quells the urge to bite you, to leave his mark on your body. Instead, he grabs your jaw between his thumb and fingers as he cums into you, squeezing your face for a moment before his hand slides down to your throat. You gasp at the shift, suddenly acutely aware of his untamed strength, your comparable vulnerability, the fingers around your neck as he presses around your windpipe in the haze of ejaculation.

You squirm against his hold, simultaneously trying to quiet your fear and regain your ability to breathe. Your skin tingles and there's a faint ringing sound like glass as it whispers around you. A heaviness on your tongue accompanies the low reverbs in the air. You know this feeling, recognise the tell-tale signs of the protective spell Lucifer placed on you some time ago, but the magic feels weak.

You're not sure when you relinquished your grip on Diavolo's horns, but both of your hands are clawing at the digits he has locked around your neck as he grinds to a halt inside you. You can't breathe. The panic is clouding your head. Or are you suffocating? You can't tell anymore, but you need him to let go, and you can't speak.

It takes another moment for Diavolo to register the faint magic rippling about you, and a moment longer to realise what it is and that his claws are around your throat.

" _Oh!_ " he gasps, releasing you and stepping back.

You go down to your knees like a lead balloon, your body too jelly-like to remain upright without Diavolo physically supporting you. With a shaky inhale, you press your palms into the floor and bow your head, awash with shame and the sharp edge of fear.

"My love, I'm so sorry, did I hurt you?" he says, kneeling next to you.

His demon form is gone, and his eyes are riddled with guilt as he reaches out to you. You try to steady your breathing, try not to flinch when his hand finds your shoulder, but he can feel the thinly veiled recoil, even as you fight it. Panic rises in his face, and a small part of you marvels at how expressive his features are when he isn't hiding behind his usual bravado. You take another deep breath, concentrating on the feeling of the floor against your knees.

_You’re okay, you’re okay, you’re okay, you’re okay,_ you chant in your head. _He isn’t trying to hurt you. He doesn’t know. He doesn’t know._

Gently, Diavolo pulls you back into a sitting position. You stretch your legs out in front of you and let yourself lean into him. Your skin feels suddenly cold, and his warm scent entices you closer. When you cling to him, you can feel his hesitation, his uncertainty, before he allows himself to hold you.

"My love?" he tries again. "Are you alright?"

Your shoulders shake against your will and a sob escapes you. Touching your throat, you assure yourself that you're still in one piece.

"I'm okay," you murmur. "I just ... need a minute."

With a few more deep breathes, you banish the worst of the thoughts and flashbacks that threaten your mind. Your shoulders settle. You feel heavier in the aftermath. Diavolo is quiet for a long moment while you gather yourself. Once you’ve calmed some, he hums thoughtfully. The sound vibrates against your ear, where you’re pressed to his collarbone.

"Will you accompany me back to the castle, my love?" he asks quietly.

You nod your head. "Yeah, but I don't think I can walk just yet."

"No need," he assures you. "I will carry you."

Before you can protest, he's scooped you up and come to his feet with you against his chest, bridal style once more. With an Infernal rumble and a glow of his eyes, Diavolo makes the space around you shift. Your stomach flip flops uncomfortably as the Student Council Chamber vanishes, only to be replaced with the familiar décor of Diavolo's bedroom.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back at the Demon Lord's Castle, Diavolo gives you some tender aftercare and Barbatos comes to check on you. Plenty of angst, a dash of fluff, and some Barbatos x reader smut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Trigger warning:** MC's past trauma is going to come up in a bit more detail during this chapter—choking and heavily implied rape. Please take care while reading.

As the space around you stills, you take in the large bedroom. It has been around a month since your first time here. The space has a comforting familiarity in the back of your mind, despite the grand décor. The curtains are neatly pulled back from the floor to ceiling windows, and the glass door that leads out to the balcony is ajar, inviting in the fresh air. The bed is immaculately made up, without a crease in sight as your eyes scan the rich blankets. The bedroom feels strangely empty without Lucifer and Barbatos in sight. Diavolo gives you a moment to get your bearings, holding you effortlessly in his arms. You give him a sheepish smile.

"Teleportation? I didn't know you could do that."

He lets out a peel of booming laughter as he carries you towards the luxurious ensuite.

"I can do a great many things with my powers, my love. I am sure there will be ample opportunity to impress you some more," he teases with a grin.

You're still admiring his magnificent bathroom when he looks at you, and his eyes find the shape left by his fingers around your throat. You turn your attention back to him in time to see his face fall again.

"I am sorry, my love."

He sets you down on the large vanity beside the sink. You glance at yourself in the mirror. The outline of his hand is red against your skin. Whether it will bruise is anyone's guess. That familiar cold shiver races up your spine, and you have to take another steadying breath.

_He wasn't trying to hurt me,_ you assure yourself. _But I suppose that's what I told myself back then, too. No, this is different. Right?_

Diavolo meets your eyes in the mirror's reflection with an apologetic smile. He produces a cloth from one of the drawers and soaks it in warm water before bringing it to your skin. He wipes gently at your sex and your mind is instantly refocused on how the space between your legs throbs from his aggressive lovemaking. The thoughts of your past are pushed aside for the moment. Diavolo cleans your body with surprising reverence and you're again overcome with the feeling that you should look away, that you're not meant to see this side of him. You consider taking the cloth from him and cleaning yourself up so that you can leave. But your bones feel like jelly and aside from the skirt bunched around your hips, you are naked.

_At least Diavolo still has his pants._

"Um ... we left our clothes in the Student Council Chamber," you manage as he rinses out the cloth.

"I have already retrieved them," a voice asserts from the doorway, making you jump.

Your head turns so fast that you feel dizzy. Barbatos is standing in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest as he levels his gaze at Diavolo. The prince sighs out a small thank you, rubbing the back of his neck under the butler's scrutiny. Barbatos raises a pointed eyebrow at his master.

"My Lord, did we not discuss the importance of being _gentle_ with our new lover?"

Despite his words not being directed at you, you feel their cold edge. A glance at Diavolo confirms that he looks like a kicked puppy when being told off. You're half tempted to cuddle him, except that Barbatos is making a very important point.

_I didn't think it was possible for Diavolo to be as deflated as I've seen him today_. _He always seems so jovial._

"I had not intended to be so rough. I'm sorry, my love."

" _I'm_ not the one you owe an apology," Barbatos states.

Despite his even tone, his voice is full of warning. Usually so collected and formal, so unreadable, this display of ire catches you off guard. To see Barbatos direct such a tone at Prince Diavolo, whom he serves so devoutly, is surreal. The butler's signature stillness throughout this scolding is unnerving.

"I _did_ apologise to her!" Diavolo says with indignance. "Not that it's enough ..."

If you weren't such a mess, you might laugh at Diavolo's childlike outburst. _Is this what the two of them are like when no one else is watching?_

He turns back to you with a fresh washcloth to clean the wounds on your thigh, where his claws had drawn blood. He flashes you one of his winning smiles, despite the smarting of his cheeks. You don't hear Barbatos step towards you until his hands are cupping your chin. He turns your head this way and that to inspect you. Clicking his tongue, his hands return to his hips and he scowls sidelong at Diavolo before meeting your gaze.

"Are you alright, my love?"

The words are firm, but surprisingly warm in contrast to how he spoke to Diavolo a moment ago. Your face flushes at the note of tenderness behind the insistence imploring you to answer. You give him a small nod with a little smile, and that seems to ease some of his worries. With a sigh, he searches your eyes for something, though you're not sure what, before turning back to Diavolo.

"You grabbed her throat." It is a statement, made without accusation.

Without meaning to, you put your hand against your neck, where Diavolo's fingers curled a few minutes earlier. Barbatos flits his eyes back to you, then back to Diavolo.

"Don't touch her throat," he says.

Diavolo gives him an inquisitive look.

"She's not built like me or Lucifer," Barbatos says with a shrug. "It's unsafe for her."

He meets your gaze again as he speaks, and his eyes tell you that he has left something unsaid. Regardless, Diavolo nods his agreement and finishes tending to the breaks along your skin. He takes your hand in his. You never considered yourself particularly small before you came to the Devildom, but watching the way his palms so thoroughly encase yours brings your human frailty to the forefront of your mind.

"My love, I wanted to ask about the protective spell Lucifer placed on you. I noticed that it activated, but I didn't realise until afterwards. It did little to stop me from hurting you," Diavolo says, looking into your eyes.

You nod in acknowledgement. "The power behind it felt weak to me, too. I thought I was going to yeet you across the Student Council Chamber, but you didn't even flinch. Could it ... could the spell be fading?"

Barbatos gives a thoughtful hum. "That is entirely possible. Lucifer did say it was only meant to last a few hours. It has lingered much longer than anticipated, thanks to the combination of Celestial and Infernal magic.”

"It's been like a superpower for the last month," you say. "I've used it a few times since the initial incident in Asmo's bathroom."

They both give you an inquisitive look, prompting you to elaborate.

"I used it to push Asmodeus away when he upset me by being a jerk to Mammon. That wasn't long after the bathroom incident. And a couple of weeks ago, I used it on Satan and Lucifer without meaning to, when they were at each other's throats right before the body swap thing happened." You pause, looking thoughtfully at your hands. "Gosh, has it already been that long since all those things happened?"

Barbatos chimes a soft laugh. "Time is a funny thing," he says. "No matter how long it seems to drag on, it always catches us off-guard when so much has passed."

Do you imagine the sad undertone in his statement? You give him a curious look, but his only response is to stroke your hair. He elaborates no further.

"I think you are correct. The spell must be wearing off at this point. Frankly, I'm impressed that its power lasted this long. Lucifer really outdid himself."

He presses the tip of his finger against his lower lip in a thoughtful motion. His other hand is still stroking at your hair. He twirls a lock around his digits and releases it again. Diavolo's soft chuckle draws your attention to him.

"I am glad you've warmed up to Lucifer," he sighs, addressing Barbatos. "It makes me _so_ happy."

A soft blush tints Barbatos's cheeks. He takes a step back from you, clearing his throat.

"I am going to prepare some tea for us," he declares with a slight bow.

Without another word, he excuses himself and disappears from the bathroom. You're alone with Diavolo once more.

"I truly am sorry to have hurt you or cause you any distress, my love," Diavolo says, earnest.

You pull your arms around his shoulders. "It's probably for the best if you don't try to choke me out again, like Barb said. Other than that, I really enjoyed myself. I _do_ like it rough."

A purr-like growl escapes him, and he gives you another heated look. You give him a sly grin in return and pull his lips against yours. It only takes a heartbeat for him to devour your mouth, dancing his tongue against yours. He pulls you to the edge of the vanity and you wrap your legs around his waist, grinding against the renewed bulge at the front of his pants. Diavolo's hands move slowly along your sides. One comes to cup at your breast, still bare from earlier. Your nipple hardens quickly at his touch and you sigh into his mouth. Fast hands stop you from rolling your hips too assertively and he breaks away from your mouth with a soft laugh.

"I am so tempted by you, my love, but I believe you need to recover some, after the treatment I've given you."

Biting your lip, you attempt to quell your libido. The ache in your body tells you how right he is. Your hands are still trembling from the lingering memories of your past. You can't feel the exhaustion just now, but you know it will come. Those memories always take their toll.

Diavolo leads you out of the ensuite, though yours legs wobble beneath you with each step. You spot the missing components of your RAD uniform folded neatly at the foot of his large bed, but the prince ignores them. Once you're perched safely on the edge of the mattress, he disappears into the giant walk-in wardrobe and returns with a casual t-shirt that you cannot in your wildest dreams imagine his regal arse wearing. Your cheeks twinge in the wake of an incredulous smile.

"Lift your arms up," he instructs with a beam.

You do as he says, and he pulls the oversized t-shirt down over your head. He gently removes your skirt as the fresh material encases your comparatively small body. The hem of his shirt stops just above your knees after you smooth it out. He steps back to admire the article hanging from your form with an approving smile. To your surprise, the baggy shirt smells like both the prince and his butler, despite your certainty that neither would ever wear something so common.

" _Oh_ ," Barbatos says, re-entering with a tray of tea.

A furious blush takes his features in an instant and he glances away from you, lingering in the doorway.

"It looks so cute on her, doesn't it, Barb?" Diavolo booms. "I'll have to find more excuses to make you wear my shirts."

Your heart skips a beat at his wide grin and the pink dusting on his cheeks. It skips another beat when Barbatos sets down the tray of tea and tentatively looks you up and down.

"It is quite endearing," he agrees, pouring out the tea. "But does it look better on her, or on me?"

He gives a cup to Diavolo first, then sits beside you when he brings your drink over. The prince booms a bright laugh at Barbatos's question, and you glance between the two of them, cheeks burning red. Barbatos smiles coyly.

"I will reserve my judgement until I've had a chance to fuck her in it, too. After all, that is when _you_ look best in it," Diavolo snipes.

He winks at you with those words. You very nearly spit your tea, but you manage to only choke on it instead. Barbatos actually looks stunned by the prince's retort but denies nothing as he places splayed fingers over his sternum. A suggestive grin curves his lips a moment later.

Diavolo plops down on your opposite side, thumping your back to stop your choking. You feel yourself blush deeper under their combined gazes as they watch you take another sip. Diavolo leans back on one hand as he drinks his tea, naked torso rippling each time he brings the cup up to his lips. The bulge at the front of his trousers is still prominent, but Barbatos distracts you with a gentle peck to your temple.

"I trust you've had a good day, aside from our lover's overzealous handling," he murmurs.

He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear as he speaks. His hand lingers on your back. You swallow a mouthful of tea with a nod. He opens his mouth to say something more, but then closes it again, looking towards the door as if someone is standing there. You follow his gaze but see nothing.

"Young Master, it seems we have guests. Bael and Belial are about to arrive." He comes to his feet, giving both of you a slight bow. "I will receive them shortly. They will await you in the east sitting room when you are ready."

Diavolo nods his understanding. "Thank you, Barbatos."

With that, the butler departs once more. Diavolo releases a tired sigh, then smiles at you.

"I must apologise, it appears I must fulfil some princely duties. Though I would much rather be spending time with you, my love." He cups your face and places a chaste kiss against your lips. "I don't know how long I will be, but I'd like you to rest here for a while."

Diavolo pulls the sheets back and coaxes you to lay down before tucking you into his giant bed. As your body settles against the soft linen, the afternoon takes its toll and you realise how tired your body has become. He nuzzles your hair, leaning over you for a small kiss before he straightens up. You watch him don his shirt, tie, and blazer, patting everything flat before he turns back to you with his signature smile. Looking at him now, you wouldn't guess that he was fucking you senseless in the Student Council Chamber at RAD less than an hour ago.

"I will send Barbatos to check on you later."

With that, he strides out of the room. The door closes softly in his wake and you are left alone in the familiar space. You make yourself comfortable against the pillows, clutching one to your chest when you turn onto your side. Diavolo’s scent is everywhere here. You still don't know him as well as you would like to, considering how intimate you've become, but his scent fills you with warmth and comfort. With a deep inhale, you let yourself relax.

You don't manage to sleep, but your senses go quiet for a time.

When you hear the door click open again, you don't know how much time has passed, but opening your eyes is harder than you expect. At some point, you've rolled to face away from the door. It must be late in the afternoon, judging by the dim light pouring in through the floor to ceiling windows. A weight settles on the mattress beside you, and the slide of cool gloves against your shoulder helps bring you back to your senses.

"I thought you might be thirsty, my love," Barbatos murmurs in his smooth voice.

He's perched on the edge of the bed, holding a glass of water for you to take. You sit yourself up and thank him before gulping it all down, suddenly aware of how dehydrated you are. He takes your empty glass and sets it on Diavolo's nightstand.

"How are you feeling?" he asks.

You can tell there's a tinge of worry to his voice, but you give him an assuring smile.

"I'm fine, Barbatos. Really. He didn't hurt me that badly. It was more that he ..." You consider your words for a moment. "Gave me a fright."

Barbatos gives a knowing nod of his head. "I gathered that was the case. I think you gave him a bit of a fright, too, when he saw your reaction. We are both glad you're not so badly harmed as he first thought. I don't think he'll be trying that again."

He places a white gloved hand over yours and gives it a small squeeze.

"My love, I hope you know that you can talk to us. You can tell us if there are things you wish for us not to do, and you don't owe us an explanation. Are there other things we should refrain from?"

You give him a wide-eyed stare. _Is this what he held back from saying in front of Diavolo?_ Your hand goes absently to your throat.

"How ...?"

He glances down at his knees, almost shamefully, before meeting your eyes again. There's a dusting of rose on his cheeks.

"The night you spent here a few weeks ago, while you and I were ... getting to know each other, hah ... I almost grabbed your throat at one point, but Lucifer stopped me."

Your expression is incredulous.

"He did?"

_I wouldn't put it past Lucifer to intervene in that situation, but_ **_when_ ** _did this happen?_

Barbatos nods his head twice.

"You may not have noticed the exchange at the time, or at least, may not have understood it."

The memories of that night swim through your head, causing heat to rise to your cheeks. You try to recall the moment Barbatos is referring to, but nothing springs to mind.

"I assume there is a reason you don't like having your throat grabbed. I did ask Lucifer about it afterwards, but if he knows, he didn't share that information with me. As he so aptly put it: it's nobody's business but your own."

You let out a surprised peel of laughter. You can imagine exactly how Lucifer sounded shutting down Barbatos's question. A gentle squeeze of your hand reminds you that he hasn't let go and brings your attention back to him.

"My love, it is important to me—to all of us—that you feel safe. If there is anything that you would prefer not to occur, please, let us know. You don't owe us any explanation beyond that unless you wish to share those details. The last thing any of us want is for an intimate exchange to be ruined for you, because we did something that brought you fear."

Your cheeks burn with shame as those distant memories rear their collective head in your mind. The sting of tears behind your eyes blinds you for a moment and you blink them away. You feel exposed. And yet, with Barbatos here, holding your hand, you feel calm.

"He was a friend," you say quietly. "At least, that's what I thought he was. But then ..." Your free hand rests on your collarbone and you press your fingers gently to your throat.

"You do not have to tell me," he says, so quietly that you feel it more than hear it.

Barbatos sits patiently, unassuming. A gentle squeeze of your hand while you hesitate helps you decide. You find your words, blinking out tears.

"He ... wanted more than friendship. And I said no. But he—"

That face flashes in your mind. A hand that isn't there anymore holds you down. You beg him to stop, but he squeezes your throat tighter, cutting off your airways as you struggle beneath him. You've never felt helplessness before. It's so sharp and consuming that at some point, you just go blank and let numbness wash over at you. It's easier not to feel anything at all while it happens, and for what feels like forever after.

You can feel yourself shaking. Your heart weeps, despite the handful of years that have passed. Barbatos squeezes your hand again, tracing your knuckles with his thumb. Gentle shushing sounds help you calm your nerves.

_That was a long time ago_ , you tell yourself. _He's not here. I'm safe._

"He wouldn't take no for an answer," you finish with a shaky breath. "I'm sorry I didn't mention it."

Barbatos gives a firm shake of his head, dark green hair bouncing around his face.

"You will apologise to no one, my love. I am so sorry that you went through that."

You give Barbatos a weak smile and force those memories away. You swipe the back of your hand underneath your eyes and take a few more deep breathes.

"Thanks, Barb. I don't think there's anything else that sets me off like that. I generally like the roughness, _a lot_ , just not ..." You make a grabbing motion at your throat. "Not that."

He gives another curt nod. "Understood, my love. Would it be acceptable for me to discuss this with Diavolo? I feel it is important to make him aware that it is not just a matter of his tendency to forget his strength, lest he try it again on a day he feels he'll have better control."

You hesitate, but you imagine the pointed look Lucifer would give you. When you spoke about it to the Avatar of Pride, the night you accompanied him to the Demon Lord’s Castle, he didn't anticipate that either the prince or the butler would attempt to choke you out in the midst of pleasure. But it seems he misread them both on that front. With a sigh, you nod your consent to Barbatos. He gives your hand another small squeeze.

"I will say no more than what Lucifer said to me," he promises. "You have told me this in confidence, so I will not elaborate on the matter."

That brings you more comfort. His words are like silk. You thank him again and sigh, flopping back on the bed. You feel lighter, despite the heavy atmosphere of the room. You don't release his hand, rather, you give it a small tug.

"Will you stay here for a bit?" You try not to sound too hopeful.

To your surprise and delight, Barbatos sounds a soft laugh and agrees. Pulling his hand free from yours, he stands to slipping off his jacket, gloves, and shoes. After he rolls the sleeves of his shirt up to his elbows, he positions himself next to you on the bed, pulling your head into his lap. With a soft hum, he begins to stroke your hair and you hug his legs against your chest.

A silence stretches between you while you process the fact that you've finally given one of your lovers some insight into the troubled parts of your mind that you have so carefully kept locked away.

_But that’s enough on that for today,_ you decide.

Instead, you think about today: the rhythm of going to classes at RAD, the pop quiz during your class before lunchtime, the way Diavolo's eyes lit up when you walked into the Student Council Chamber. The conversation about the lover’s bites returns to your mind and you mull over Diavolo’s explanation.

"Can I ask you about something?" you chance.

"Of course, my love. What's on your mind?"

You press your fingers to the scar of the lover's bite Lucifer gave you. "Dia told me about the bite marks, about what they mean. I get why the four of us can't do that but ... what does it mean if a lover _doesn't_ give you their mark?"

Barbatos considers you for a moment, combing your hair with deft fingertips.

"Is there a particular demon you're worried about?"

You nod your head against his knee. "Beelzebub. He was the first of the brothers I got intimate with, and he's the only one who's openly in a relationship with me who hasn't bitten me. I guess I'm just curious about what that means."

Your brow furrows as you think it over, before Barbatos even has a chance to respond. Beelzebub is a giant teddy bear. He's a big ol' cinnamon roll, and with every interaction since the week you stayed in his room, he's shown you nothing but complete and utter adoration, which intensified after the two of you started having sex.

_Could it be that he just doesn't love me the same way his brothers do? Is that why everything is so easy with him?_

Barbatos tugs you to sit upright again and holds you at arm’s length to meet your gaze.

"Beelzebub is a man of few words, but I've seen the way he looks at you, my love, and I don't doubt his affection. There are many reasons that a demon may not leave a lover's mark, but it does take a lot of self-control to stop oneself from doing it when the urge strikes." He contemplates for a moment, draping an arm around your shoulder to pull you against his side. "If I were to speculate, I'd say that Beelzebub is holding back."

"Why?" you frown. "And how? He doesn't exactly have a lot of self-control."

"That is true, and perhaps that is exactly why."

You give him an inquisitive look. You're still not sure what to think. Barbatos cups your face and tilts your chin up. His face is so close to yours that you can feel the fanning of his breath against your skin and see the shine of his eyes behind those viridian lashes.

"I can think of two reasons why Beelzebub may hold back from leaving his lover's mark on you. First of all, he is the Avatar of Gluttony. He may have some reservations about performing the act of leaving the mark, for fear of harming you. He knows he lacks control when eating and would associate biting with the sin he represents. Of course, I'm only speculating, but perhaps he's stopping himself from biting you for fear that he won’t be able to stop once he starts."

"I guess that makes sense," you agree, nodding.

When you first arrived in the Devildom, there was a suggestion that Beelzebub would try to eat you. Once you felt at home in the House of Lamentation, that idea was reduced to nothing more than a joke. But Barbatos is right—he _is_ the Avatar of Gluttony ... and he _does_ have a habit of complimenting the way you smell and taste when you're being intimate together. You've always found it endearing, but if he were to actually bite you—

_Nope, not going to think about that, nope nope nope_.

You refocus your attention to Barbatos. "What's the second reason?"

A small hum escapes between his gentle lips. You feel enticed by their soft plumpness and lean in closer. A blush rises in Barbatos's cheeks again and you can't help but smirk at the way he reacts. He seems to forget your question as he stares back at you, his eyes going to your mouth too. Your tongue flickers against your bottom lip as desire trickles through your veins. He moves closer, tentative. His lips ghost against yours before he pulls back a little, realising that he hasn't answered your last question. He clears his throat.

"As you're aware, Beelzebub has a twin. I'm sure you've heard of Belphegor, Avatar of Sloth, seventh-born of the brothers."

You try not to let your guilty conscience show through when you nod your head, but Barbatos locks eyes with you for a moment as if he's reading your mind.

"I imagine he would want his twin's approval before declaring his commitment to you. I would go as far as to say that he hopes to share your love with Belphegor, too. Their bond is inexplicable."

You turn that idea over you in your mind, but you can't help the discomfort that shows on your face. No denizen of the Devildom may know it yet, save for the Avatar of Sloth himself, but you have indeed met the youngest of the seven lords. Gorgeous though he is—it's impossible to deny the flawless beauty of any of the brothers—you are a far cry from enthralled with his passive-aggressive demeanour. Following your last conversation with him, you have half a mind to leave the salty bastard up in the attic and forget that you were ever trying to help free him.

But Barbatos is right. Beelzebub does share an uncanny bond with Belphegor, and it hurts you to know how sorely your beloved misses his twin. That's why you started down this road to begin with. For Beel. 

Barbatos must notice your disquiet, because he tilts his head up to place a kiss against your temple. He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear.

"That must be a strange thought to entertain, the possibility of loving him too, given the circumstances."

He sounds distracted, but something about his tone and his choice of words is unsettling. Barbatos can't possibly know your secret. You give him a worried frown and pull back slightly. _Why wouldn't he just say, 'given that you haven't met Belphegor yet'?_

"Fret not, my love. I have no doubt that Beelzebub will find the right moment to place his mark on you. Come whatever may."

You swallow a dry lump in your throat. His eyes are searching yours in the most hypnotic way. You can feel yourself gravitate towards him, despite the niggling in the back of your mind that he knows something he shouldn't. Still, your body is reacting to his proximity, to his scent, to his warmth. His mouth brushes over yours once more, catching on your bottom lip. 

"Are you a mind reader?" you manage.

Heat is rushing to the space between your legs. He presses his forehead against yours.

"No, my love. I am not a mind reader," he chuckles.

A pause lingers between you and you suddenly feel rather foolish. Your shoulders rise and fall a couple of times as you try to contain the urge to laugh.

"My love?"

An ungraceful sound escapes you and then you start laughing, bowing your head against his shoulder.

"I'm sorry, I just feel silly," you admit. "It's been a day. I was worried about Beelzebub not loving me or something, just because he hasn't bitten me like the others, but those reasons both seem so obvious now that you've said them."

A smile pinches his face as you pull back from him. He has a good-natured laugh, though it's a touch too deep to be angelic. Still, the way he beams at you makes your stomach summersault. You drape your arms over his shoulders and press your mouth to his. He hesitates before he opens for you and slides his tongue against yours. His finger travel over the material of Diavolo's shirt. You shimmy closer, press yourself flush against him. One of his hands settles on your thigh, pulling the edge of the blanket down so that he can finger at the hem of Diavolo's oversized shirt. He pulls back from your lips for a moment.

"I may not be a mind reader, but I think I know what's on your mind."

The suggestive tone of his voice sends a shiver through you. You flash a cocky grin.

"And what is on my mind, pray tell?"

He nips at your bottom lip, pulling it teasingly between his teeth before letting go.

"I believe _I_ am on your mind right now. And I wish to be the _only_ thing on your mind, if you will allow it to be so."

You feel your core clench as his rich voice drips against your ear. You inhale his scent, the musk of frankincense with an undertone of freshly baked scones. You move your mouth against the crook of his neck, encouraging his fingers to slide up your thigh. You're not wearing anything beneath Diavolo's shirt. Barbatos finds the path between your legs easily, pressing you down onto your back as he adjusts to kneel between your legs with a delicate finger circling the bud of your clit. Your head tilts back with a soft moan as he presses a digit into your heat, kissing his way down the inside of your thigh as he lowers his face between your knees.

"Is this alright, my love?"

"Fuck ... Barbatos ..." Your hips jerk towards his mouth. "Yes, I want this!"

His lips caress your sex. He's quick to pull his hands away in favour of eating you out. You moan low and long as his tongue presses over your nerve endings, awakening every inch of your needy body with desire. Looking down the length of your torso, he smiles back at you from between your legs. Eyelashes flutter against your inner thigh. He sucks your clit between his lips and rolls his tongue over it. It makes you shake, but he releases you with a pop before it can become too much. Instead, his tongue slides down your slit and presses between your folds. You moan his name, hands grabbing at his hair as he drinks from you the slickness of your arousal. Sounds of gratification rumble against your pussy and his fingertips press into your skin. You fist at his dark green locks as he pulls you closer to his hungry mouth.

You're teetering on the edge of an orgasm when he stops and sits up. You whine out his name, almost angry at the sudden denial, until you realise that he's undressing himself. His clothes are quickly abandoned as his demon form flicker into being. He makes a gentle hushing sound and gives you a serious look.

"Do you trust me, my love?" he asks.

His tail curls around your waist and he uses it to lift you against his body. The bright twin-tips of the appendage brush your cheek as he shifts your legs around his waist and settles your half-clothed form in his lap. You rut against his shaft when you feel it press against your heat. You slide easily along him, desperate for the stretch of your cunt around his cock now that he's so close to being inside you.

He places his hands on both sides of your face and forces you to look at him.

"Do you trust me?" he asks again.

The question is pointed. It demands an answer. He doesn't release your face or your gaze. He's searching your eyes again, though you still don't know why.

"Of course, I trust you, Barbatos," you manage.

You didn't realise you were short of breath, but you suppose that's what happens when you get worked up to the edge of orgasm like this. His eyes pause in their searching, and he seems to zone out for a few seconds before refocusing. His tail lifts you enough for him to align his cock with your entrance, and you wiggle your hips in anticipation of sliding down over him. He lowers you slowly, _so slowly_ , you almost want to scream and insist that he fuck you senseless. But his gaze is hypnotic, and you can't fight against the strength of his tail as the coils tighten around you.

You feel him enter your body. The quiet moan that leaves him as your hips meet his causes you to pulse around his cock. With his shaft fully embedded in your heat, he begins to move his hips, keeping you steady with his tail. You're still sore from Diavolo's earlier treatment, but Barbatos keeps his movements soft. You can feel from his tail and his hands against your skin that he's holding back the urge to go so much harder. He keeps weaving your hair between his fingers, the ghost of his lips scraping against yours with the occasional flicker of his tongue to accompany them. His eyes close in concentration.

"My love," he breathes, bowing his head against the crook of your neck.

The spindly tips of his horns trace against your skin, like fingers. It sends another shiver through you. Your hands find their way to the base where they protrude from his head. You finger at the shifting texture as you feel your way up from his scalp. They're the smoothest things you've ever felt, and he trembles at your delicate touch against them. His tail pulls you closer against his torso and he stills inside you for a moment to look into your eyes.

"My love," he says again. "You are so loved. Do not forget that. You are so very loved."

"Barbatos ...?"

He rolls his hips again, capturing your mouth for a soft kiss. He caresses your tongue with his and follows it up with another soft kiss before pulling back enough to look at you. His cock throbs inside you when he rolls his hips once more. His shaft kisses at the most sensitive parts within you. Your cunt flutters with need as he continues rocking back and forth inside you.

"No matter what path you take tomorrow, remember this. Remember, my love."

Your mind is foggy. The pull of an orgasm in your belly is making you heady. His lips blaze a gentle path along your throat. Your skin tingles as if dusted with embers as he lingers over the places Diavolo's hand had gripped too hard. When his mouth departs from your neck, he pulls the front of Diavolo's baggy shirt down to latch onto the bud of your nipple. You moan at the sensation as he caresses it with his tongue, rolling it between his lips with such tenderness you think he's trying not to break you.

With another roll of his hips, your cunt tightens around his cock and you feel the coil of your orgasm blaze white-hot. Your whole body writhes against his as ecstasy finds you. His name is on your tongue, and it echoes through the room with your voice. You clutch helplessly at the base of his horns. Your mind is blank except for Barbatos and the way your body fits so perfectly against his right now.

In the midst of your orgasm, you bring him to the edge with you and his eyes go wide with wonder. Your name is torn from between his lips in a guttural sound.

Does time slow down, or are you imagining that?

He blinks twice, staring into your eyes as a single tear meanders down his left cheek. You try to move your hand from his horn to wipe it with your thumb, but your limbs feel sluggish. The pleasure wracking your body feels infinite. He won't look away from you. He won't look away.

Suddenly, the moment has passed. You draw in a deep breath, as if you've been under water, and he pulls you against his body as his hips still. Your knuckles have gone white from how firmly you grip at his horns. You manage to pry one hand away, flexing your fingers. You catch the remnants of the single tear and wipe it away with your thumb.

Slowly, Barbatos tilts forward and lays you on your back. He remains embedded in you as he uncoils his tail from your torso and shifts out of his demon form. He drags your other hand from where his horns have disappeared to rest against his cheek, turning his head to press a kiss into your palm. His other arm is braced against the mattress beside your head.

"We demons are undeserving of your love," he murmurs, looking down on you.

Your heart is thudding in your chest, a mixture of happiness and ecstasy and your reaction to his quiet melancholy. You comb his hair back out of his face with your fingers.

"Barbatos, I don't understand what you're trying to tell me."

A sad smile graces his lips. "Only that I love you. We love you. I hope you can forgive how selfish that makes us."

You search the depths of his eyes, hooded as he floats above you.

"How could loving me be selfish?" you ask.

Your legs slide against his waist when he leans down to kiss you again. It's his only answer to your question. When his lips leave yours, he slides out of your body and settles at your side. He takes a moment to draw his arms around you and cradle your head against his chest. He pulls the blanket up across your torso so that you won't get cold. He's stroking your hair again. You can feel your spent body fading from consciousness, heavy in the afterglow, safe in his arms.

His rich voice follows you into your dreams. He has his back turned to you. You're in a room full of doors that are wide open, but all you can see beyond each of them is a haze of light and sound. The exits—or entrances?—all pull at your being, until you feel you might split apart, so that each door can take a piece of you. Over your shoulder, there is one door and it is closed. There is an ominous aura around it. Ivy creep across its surface and it slowly fades from view. You turn back to Barbatos, standing in front of you. He still hasn't looked your way.

You take a breath to say his name, but your voice is cut off. There's a sharpness around your throat, something squeezing. You raise your hand to your neck, but the cold fingers choking you aren't there. Your skin feels cold. The invisible force around your throat tightens. You grasp at nothing, panic rising quickly in your belly. Your lungs burn, but there is no air.

"I am so sorry, my love," Barbatos says. 

The room around you begins to fade, and you hear another voice.

_"How ... How could this happen ...?!"_

_That's Lucifer's voice_ , you realise. You try to turn your head, but you can't see him. Your efforts to call out to him are just as futile as your attempts to call out to Barbatos. Your eyes flit back to where he was standing before, but he's gone, and the doors are slowly swinging shut.

"I know that you will be alright, my love."

Barbatos's voice reaches you from ... you're not sure which of the doors. It might be all of them. The pressure around your throat is unbearable. Everything starts to spin. And you're falling backwards. You go through the floor, now through clouds. Pain and sorrow course through your body. The rustle of wings deafens you. You see feathers, long and silky and white, with a smattering of blood, as they swirl around you in slow motion.

_" ... Elp ... Please ... I beg you ..."_ Comes Lucifer's voice, desperate and filled with despair.

It feels like you'll fall forever. Nothing can stop you. Nothing will catch you. You can't breathe.

"What I don't know, is if you will forgive us, my love. Forgive me. Please. I am so sorry."

\--

The room is dark when you open your eyes, save for the familiar light of the fireplace. Barbatos is stroking your hair. Your head is on his lap again.

"You were having a nightmare, my love," he says, tucking a strand behind your ear.

You sigh out your relief. Part of you still feels like you're falling, but you're tucked safely into Diavolo's giant bed. Barbatos has gotten dressed again, all but his gloves back in place.

"It's getting late, my love. Diavolo and Lucifer are finishing up their work for the day. Lu will take you back to House of Lamentation."

"Lucifer's here?"

"He came by after our other visitors left. They had quite a bit of work to finish this evening. Diavolo let him know about what happened this afternoon." He slips his legs out from under you and comes to his feet. "Come along, my love."

His gloves are on the nightstand. He pulls them over his hands while you fumble into your RAD uniform. Your panties are not among the bundle of clothes.

_I guess Barbatos didn't bother trying to salvage them, considering Diavolo tore them apart ..._

After folding the borrowed shirt and leaving it on the end of Diavolo’s bed, you follow the butler from the room and along the corridors of the castle. He slows his pace so that you can keep up, and you fall into step beside him. You give him a sidelong look, mind riddled with questions that you're too tired to ask. You file them away for another time.

He leads you into a study full of books and loose sheets of paper. Lucifer and Diavolo are both standing before a desk, having put down their pens and forsaken their stacks of paperwork for the night. Their eyes go straight to you as you walk in behind Barbatos. The familiarity of the eldest of the seven brothers eases the anxiety that you didn't realise you were holding. You love them all, but Lucifer has been your constant throughout your time in the Devildom so far.

"I suppose I can't scold you for missing your afternoon classes, considering it was Diavolo's doing," Lucifer comments with a smirk. "Did you rest well, my love?"

You nod as Lucifer steps towards you. He presses a kiss against your temple. He loops an arm around your waist and turns to Diavolo and Barbatos. The prince steps towards you next and lays a kiss on the corner of your mouth.

"I am glad that we could spend some time together today," he says, pulling back. He gives Lucifer a soft kiss too. "See to it that she rests. I was too rough with her."

The admission earns him a scowl from both Lucifer and Barbatos. You gently elbow the former in the ribs.

"I'm fine, really," you assure them.

"Regardless," Barbatos says. "Please rest tonight, my love."

Barbatos wraps his arms around both you and Lucifer at the same time. There's something off about the gesture, as if it means more than just goodnight. He kisses each of you in turn, holding you just a little longer than you anticipate before they send you off with Lucifer. 

\--

There is a tense silence in the room once they're alone. It's not often that Barbatos looks distressed, but tonight, Diavolo can see the lines that worry his forehead.

"Barb?"

The butler blinks away his discomposure, regaining his smooth and unreadable expression. But Diavolo knows how to read his eyes and he has already seen the cracks in his mask tonight.

"It's about to start, isn't it?" Diavolo asks quietly.

Barbatos gives a curt nod in silent response. He watches Diavolo's face as uncertainty clouds his expression. The prince glances back at the door, where the pair have just disappeared.

"Worried about Lucifer, sir?"

Diavolo gives a heavy sigh, shoulder slumping.

" ... Yes. Yes I am."

"I cannot say I blame you," Barbatos says, turning to face the prince. "I suspect that what's about to happen will wound him deeply."

Diavolo's features darken. He crosses his arms over his broad chest, the idea weighing heavily on his mind.

"... From the way you're talking, I take it that all of that is certain to occur now." He levels his eyes at Barbatos, who gives him a single, solemn nod. "Well, when it does, we'll be there at Lucifer's side to support him in whatever way we can." After a pause, a smile curls the corner of his lips. "And I imagine she will be too, right, Barbatos?"

His smile falters when Barbatos doesn't reply immediately. The butler's expression is more than just blank; it's empty.

"If that is what you wish, My Lord," Barbatos says after a moment.

Diavolo hesitates, weight shifting from foot to foot.

"How will it happen, Barb? I know we agreed you wouldn't tell me, but I can see that it is troubling you. It has been eating away at you ever since the night she spent here."

The prince steps into his space and places a hand on his cheek, tilting his face up. Barbatos takes a step back from Diavolo, capturing his tender hand and holding it away from his skin.

"It is too late to change course, my love. It is better that you do not know the specifics of what is to come. It will only make it seem worse."

It's not often that he denies Diavolo anything. He half expects the prince to demand the information of him. But the moments pass in heavy silence and Diavolo does not compel him to elaborate.

\--

The walk back to House of Lamentation with Lucifer is quiet. Your body is exhausted, and it seems he is too. You don't know how long he and Diavolo had been at the paperwork while you were resting, but at least the silence between you both is comfortable. He walks with a hand at the small of your back, guiding you along the path home. You glance sidelong at him, taking in his dark hair, his piercing eyes, his sharp features. He is all the beauty of light and darkness rolled into one. Your hand goes to the scar from his bite on your breast and your eyes wander to his perfect lips.

"Lucifer?"

He half turns his head towards you. "Yes, my love?"

The endearment warms your soul every time. You feel the prickle of a blush on your cheeks as you snake an arm around his slim waist. He turns his head the rest of the way to look at you properly. You meet his eyes, onyx and ruby.

"I love you," you say.

You both stop walking. A silent moment stretches between you in the Devildom night, somewhere between the Demon Lord's Castle and the House of Lamentation. The air is sweet. His cheeks are dusted pink. You're still not used to the soft looks he graces you with, but you adore them each time. With his arms around you, it’s easy for him to pull you against him and finds your lips. Tilting your head back, you moan into the kiss. He breathes you in as his tongue enters your mouth. The vibrations of a growl thrum from his lips. You're both breathless when he pulls away.

"I can smell them all over you," he purrs. "If you weren't so spent, I'd take you right here."

You chime a soft laugh as he kisses you again.

"You've never held back before," you murmur.

"Then perhaps I won't," he says.

A moment later, he has you laying in the grass at the side of the path and his body is over yours. His face is framed by a backdrop of the Devildom's constellations. He gives a soft chuckle at the way you stare up at him in awe.

"I love you too," he says.

His thumb slides against your cheek. He leans down to kiss you again. Your heart skips a beat. His fingers caress the scar of his bite, and it sends a shiver through you. You know he means every word.

You are so loved.

You could die happy here. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading this chapter. I generally try to keep this notes short, but I would like to say a bit more than usual this time. 
> 
> I received a lot of questions about MC's past trauma after the last chapter, because obviously I've hinted at it a few times throughout the series. I very much want this series to be a reader-insert, so I've kept most mentions of what exactly happened to her vague up until this point so that you can fill in the blanks as you see fit. However, the number of readers asking about it after last chapter made me want to put it in there in a little more detail. For the record, the MC's exploration of trauma has been a bit of 'ficto-memoir' from me (for an academic look at this concept, check out 'Insider Research' by Dodd over here: https://ojs.deakin.edu.au/index.php/cinder/issue/view/132). 
> 
> A big part of why I've written an MC with a semblance of my own trauma is because I was pretty upset with how Lesson 16 was handled in-game ~~and guess which part of the game narrative this series is about to reach?~~. I adored Belphegor up until that point and then ... well, you know what happened. So moving on from here, I wanted a way to explore MC's relationship with the guys once Belphegor is in the mix, in a way that doesn't just sweep literal murder under the rug. 
> 
> All that aside ... can ya tell that shit is about to hit the fan? 
> 
> Let me know what you thought about Barbatos's cryptic words, MC's nightmare, and that little scene with just Barbatos and Diavolo. 
> 
> I hope you like plenty of angst with your smut, because that's what's coming up. Please direct any complaints to the plot bunnies. Thank you. 
> 
> **Find me on Patreon as Salsa Verde for original content.**

**Author's Note:**

> This is going to be ~~at least~~ 2 chapters. I'm already part of the way through the next chapter, so hopefully it won't be long before it's up. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed reading. Let me know your thoughts so far. 
> 
> What did you think about the lover's bites concept? Let me know in the comments. 
> 
> **Find me on Patreon as Salsa Verde for original content.**


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